


The Six and a Half Foot Scowl

by hateful_donuts



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bona-Mana's Classical Music AU, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Too much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hateful_donuts/pseuds/hateful_donuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Kylo saw him, his vision was drowned in red. Hux’s hair had glimmered softly in the yellow light of the auditorium; his face, so used to scowling, was tranquil— soft, even— as he tuned his violin.<br/>He had been enraptured.<br/>Of course, Kylo had known who he was (by reputation more than anything); but he had never met Hux in person, and an overbearing sense of curiosity had washed over him like fog.<br/>How could someone with hair this bright, a face this peaceful, be the notorious ‘failed promise of the classical world’?<br/>-<br/>Based on Bona-Mana's classical music au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Six and a Half Foot Scowl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Four years. He had known Hux for _four years_. Kylo didn’t often take time to ponder on how they met; the responsibility of remembering times and dates was usually taken on by Hux. But, the moment their lives crossed wasn’t just another date to Kylo. No matter how subtle the change had seemed at the time, his life had been altered _drastically_ on that day.

 He had had his future fairly well mapped— he already had a prodigious music career that satisfied his wants and goals— what more did he need?

 But, of course, nothing had gone as planned.

  _He had met Hux_.

 (And if that wasn’t better than whatever half baked plans he had followed religiously- what was?)

 -

 The first time Kylo saw him, his vision was drowned in red. Hux’s hair had glimmered softly in the yellow light of the auditorium; his face, so used to scowling, was tranquil— soft, even— as he tuned his violin.

 He had been enraptured.

 Of course, Kylo had known who he was (by reputation more than anything); but he had never met Hux in person, and an overbearing sense of curiosity had washed over him like fog.

 How could someone with hair this bright, a face this peaceful, be the notorious ‘failed promise of the classical world’?

 -

 ( _Hux’s hair was still one of Kylo’s favorite parts of him. On soft, peaceful days, when the sun streamed in through their open windows, Kylo would lie in bed and card his fingers through it, tap little tunes on his shoudler. Hux never complained_.)

 -

 He got his answer when they begun playing.

 Of course, it had to be the ‘Emperor Concerto’ by Beethoven. The notes were as familiar to him as the lines and marks of his own face.

 ( _Now_ , the piece was his favourite, and he played it so often that he barely noticed doing so.

 It had _everything_ to do with Hux.)

 -

 An injured pianist. It had all come down to that.

 The local orchestra had already printed the fliers and sold the tickets to a ‘magical experience’ when the hotshot pianist had broken his arm— Kylo couldn’t remember the details. He only had a strong feeling that it had been something stupid.

 The symphony had been scrambling in a desperate dance to save their name. In theory, they could have refunded the tickets, but, the option they chose was to hire another pianist. That would smooth away their misstep _and_ make them money.

 That pianist just so happened to be Kylo.

 The violin soloist?

 Hux.

 -

 When they had played together that first night, Kylo had finally understood Hux’s moniker.

 He was brilliant.

 Part of Kylo’s ‘charm’ was his unpredictability. That was what made him hated _and_ loved by the musical world. His unpredictability lay in the fact that he wouldn’t wait for the orchestra. Once he stepped on the stage, he played like he was alone.

 But Hux kept up.

 He played the score perfectly, like he had memorized every single _pianissimo_ , every single rest.

 ( _Later, Kylo would learn this to be true_.)

 And he played _perfectly_ with Kylo. Unshakeable, he matched him; note for note.

 This was the ‘ _promise_ ’ part of his title.

 But- he had no interpretation. He played the music exactly as it was written, faithfully, and without any personal flair. The classical world called it emotionless, cold. _The exact opposite of what they insulted Kylo for_.

This, _this_ was the ‘ _failed_ ’ part of the epithet.

 -

 Brendol Hux II was a prodigy.

 He was Juilliard graduate, born and bred for music. He performed in his first symphony at twelve, and he started writing music for movies when he was fifteen.

 Hux was _beloved_ , that was for certain, but in the eyes of many, something was missing.

 -

 That first night they had met, the peaceful expression on Hux’s face had melted away as soon as he began playing. It was replaced with _ferocity_.

 (In the most private part of his mind, Kylo had known he was in too deep.)

 -

 Their paths crossed several times after they met before they _really talked_. They were both traveling soloists, with prestigious names; Kylo was mostly surprised that they had never met before that fateful concerto.

 It was the fourth time they met that he decided to strike up conversation.

 -

 “You’re Brendol Hux, right?” he asked, cornering the man as he was packing up his violin. He dispassionately stopped loosening his bow, and gazed up at Kylo.

 His eyes were green.

 “Yes, but please call me Hux. Kylo Ren?” He spoke the name with familiarity, his lip curling a bit. The way he spoke was deliberate, but not clipped; a posh English dialect accenting his words.

 “The one and only,” he smirked. “Would you join me for dinner?” He asked without a pause. Hux looked briefly startled, but he masked it immediately, studying Kylo’s face intently.  

 He nodded.

 “Oh, and Hux?” The man looked up from zipping shut his violin case.

 “You forgot to clean the rosin off your strings.”

 -

 Kylo is sure that Hux hated him for a while after that particular comment.

 Regardless of potential hate or not, that first date was ( _thankfully_ ) not the last. Hux often ‘ _deigned_ ’ to join him for dinner, and, although their dates were simple, Kylo couldn’t remember being happier.

 Hux was no longer an enigma, but he was still _interesting_.

 -

 They talked about various things on these dates; ranging from composers to their own, miserable backstories. The mood after _that_ particular subject had been stilted and awkward.

 This was not one of those awkward times.

 They were in Hux’s hometown— Kylo was walking him home— and it had started to snow. Hux had looked up, and then shown a rare smile.

 Kylo had been momentarily taken aback. Snow seemed like something that the other man would _hate_.

 He said as much.

 “I do, usually. But when it’s like this— dry, and not melting instantly— it’s actually quite preferable to rain.”

 Kylo nodded. It made sense, what with Hux’s naturally fastidious nature.

 They were walking down an avenue now, the trees surrounding them choked in glimmering christmas lights. It was surprisingly still and quiet for nine pm on a saturday night, but _he_ certainly wasn’t complaining.

 Surprisingly, Hux was the one to break the comfortable silence. 

 “Did you know that Rimsky-Korsakov called Rachmaninov a ‘six-and-a-half foot scowl’? I’d never heard that quote before, but it reminded me quite a bit of you, Ren,”

 Hux was turned to him, a small smirk on his lips. His eyes were dancing, reflecting the christmas lights, and his eyelashes had snow in them. His hair had escaped it’s pony tail, falling about his face and to his shoulders in a blaze of red.

 He was beautiful. Glimmering.

 Kylo reached out, tracing the line of his jaw softly. Hux looked at him bewilderedly, lips somewhat parted, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

 “What—” Kylo cut him off with a kiss.

 It was soft. Pleasant. The snow fell, but they took no note.

 -

 It was the first time in years that either of them had felt such a blissful happiness.

 Even if Hux denied feeling any such thing.

 -

 Nowadays, tours were more _dreaded_ than looked forward to, for the both of them. It meant days, sometimes weeks, of separation; something they were no longer used to.

 Kylo used to love seeing new sights; but now, in his early thirties, he felt like he had seen them all.

 Now, his phone calls with Hux were the most anticipated thing about a trip to Italy.

 -

 People often wondered how Hux and Kylo got along so well; played music so well together. They were, in the eyes of society, complete opposites. Kylo was known to be violent tempered, with a habit of over-interpreting music until it was barely recognizable; Hux was notoriously cold, and was faithful to the score, doggedly playing each song exactly as it was written.

 But they both _loved_ music. It meant more to each of them than anything, and because of that, they complimented each other.

 Hux kept up with Kylo better than anyone else, and it dragged him into new interpretations.

 Kylo synchronized himself easily with Hux, and began to play music closer to how it was written.

 Not many noticed these key factors; the ones who did called them a ‘power couple’.

 -

 Kylo loved when Hux stayed at his house. When, in the soft hours of the morning, he would play his violin, colours of the sun splashed across his face.

 He played more beautifully in these moments than ever. The sound resonated through his room, and Hux adopted his peaceful expression.

 It was rare; but the sounds his violin made in those moments were other worldly. It was the only time Kylo _could not_ bring himself to call Hux’s playing robotic.

 (Because he would be lying.)

 Instead he would watch.

 Hux would sit there, surrounded by clothes strewn about on the floor; he would lean against the bed, and play a prelude.

 -

 Although Chopin largely wrote piano pieces, Hux still had a sort of worship for his music, and any violin arrangements he could get his hands on.

 “I live in such a cold world, and I myself am cold. These songs make my emotions sing,” he explained one day.

 -

 Sometimes, Hux would sit down and play Kylo’s piano softly. It was clumsy; little renditions of für elise, small tunes.

 “I learned piano so long ago now. The last lesson I had must have been twenty four years ago.”

 Kylo would simply smile and sit next to him, playing along. Their hands would twine together, and eventually they’d end up just sitting on the bench, with their fingers woven.

 -

 Affection had never been a large part of either of their childhood lives. For Kylo, that was by choice; for Hux— not so much.

 Therefore it wasn’t surprising to either of them when Kylo was the one to initiate most kisses, hugs, and hand-holdings. He considered it a milestone when Hux, instead of complaining, simply reciprocated.

 (That didn’t stop him from giving the other man little tests, playing games to stimulate his emotions. In one of his favourite ‘exercises’, he had Hux recite poetry as their bodies slid together.)

 -

 “If in two bodies one soul triumph still, raising the twain from earth to heaven beyond, if Love with one blow and one golden wand, have power both smitten breasts to pierce and thrill…” Hux trailed off, knocking his ankle against Kylo’s.

 He nearly choked on his coffee. Hux had been feeling particularly vindicated about one of Kylo’s criticisms on one of the other man’s newer compositions.

 (He supposed reciting their _special_ poetry in a public coffee shop _was_ a good way to even things out.)

 Hux simply smirked.

 -

 Sometimes, the offhand comments of the world would get to Hux.

 “Lacks soul? Am I playing Beethoven or jazz?” He would grumble, flipping angrily through a magazine. Kylo wordlessly handed him the article he was reading. Hux’s anger quickly melted into mirth.

 “Biggest Drama King Since Mahler? Well, they’re not wrong,” he smirked.

 “After all that effort I went to to cheer you up,” Kylo muttered.

 “You wouldn’t be you without your drama,” Hux smiled slightly, and squeezed his hand.

 (Kylo was _done for_.)

 -

 Kylo’s proposal had been unorthodox.

 They had just finished playing music for a ballet, decked out in suits; Hux had been holding his instrument close. They were walking down the street, on their way to get a cab, when Kylo realized that they were on the same avenue they had first kissed on.

 The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stifle them.

 He _might_ have demanded. He _might_ have sworn. He might have never actually said ‘ _will you marry me_?’

 But the intent was clear. His mouth was spouting something about shares, about his grandfather; people were muttering, pointing, staring.

 And Hux?

 Hux was blushing bright red.

 -

  _Kylo would always have a favourite song to play with Hux_.

  _That song would always,_ always _be a piano and violin duet of Chopin’s_ Nocturne in C sharp minor _. It was_ _slow, simple, but_ beautiful _._

  _Hux_ loved _it._

  _Hux was dour. He rarely smiled, rarely initiated romance; but when they played this piece, he would smile like the sun. The sounds would blend together perfectly._

  _And Kylo would_ know _his life was complete._

 -

 Hux said yes.

 -

**Author's Note:**

> wow so that was really really fluffy! I'm sorry for any mistakes, I didn't read through it, and this is my first kylux work :^0 All credit for this idea goes to Bona-Mana on tumblr, and her wonderful art!! (I'm a grandma so I haven't figured out links yet rip).  
> ps someone make me read through my fics before posting for once im terrible  
> (edit//: I found a [ perfect rendition ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1BDBT9LQJg) of the nocturne, just, don't pay attention to their faces and pretend they are Kylo and Hux :^I//)


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